


Torts and Other Surprises

by blueteak



Category: The Good Wife (TV)
Genre: M/M, Rough Sex, season five spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-25
Updated: 2013-12-25
Packaged: 2018-01-06 01:59:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,232
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1101060
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blueteak/pseuds/blueteak
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Will and Cary have some negotiating to do during "Hitting the Fan."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Torts and Other Surprises

**Author's Note:**

  * For [swmbo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/swmbo/gifts).



Cary had winced. That wasn’t a surprise. Will had just picked up his notebook and given it a hard smack, after all. What was intriguing was that Cary had leaned toward Will at the same time as he’d flinched. A body fighting its instincts, urged to put itself in the path of danger by a brave (and foolish boy) who had too much to prove. 

And the way the news about Cary and Alicia's new firm was making him feel, combined with the way he imagined Cary would feel under him, lean muscle held taut and being forced to submit, made Will think he would let Cary try to prove all the things he wanted to, rough and hard and right now. Cary thought he could take Will’s clients, all the fourth years, and Alicia and come out on top? Will didn’t think so. He’d just fired Cary, so it wouldn’t be unethical at this point to relive some of his frustrations in a way that might get the two of them off and one or both of them bruised. He didn’t usually have hate sex, but if Cary happened to be offering….

In the next instant, it was hard to believe that Cary had leaned in, had looked like he longed to be the notebook Will had smacked. Cary was now wearing the same blank, bored look that had probably driven his professors crazy and had definitely made the partners undervalue him.

“You can take it out on the notebook all you like, Mr. Gardner," Cary drawled. "It’s the only thing you’re going to beat if you come after us.”

Will smiled, and crowded close enough to Cary that he could feel the kid’s hard-on. “I wouldn’t be too sure, Cary. We are going to be beating you so often and so soundly that you’ll learn to like it.”

Cary closed his eyes. 

“Or maybe you already do.”

This was almost too easy. All it took was one more step to see if Cary was with him on this.

“My office. Now.”

“Why? Have you decided to just save us the trouble of downloading everything past the firewall and hand over the client files we need?”

OK, two steps. This was going to be good. Cary would be wincing when he sat down well up until they eventually faced one another in court by the time Will was done with him. 

“No. Come to my office, where I have an en-suite bathroom, or get fucked in public now in addition to when I next see you in court. Your choice.”

“It’s a false choice for so many reasons. But. Your office.”

The walk through Lockhart Gardner’s hallways didn’t make Will any less angry or any less turned on, but something about steering Cary to his bathroom, one hand on his arm as though he could or would keep Cary from breaking away, made this feel less spontaneous and more ritualized. It was like he was a headmaster taking a student to his office for a caning. Though he’d been angry enough to punch Cary, he really couldn’t have, and didn’t really want to. This was something unexpected and would probably be a bit violent, but it had been negotiated, after a fashion, and he couldn't see it getting quite as rough now as he'd expected even five minutes ago. After all, he was acting like Cary was his charge now, even though he'd just fired him.

Cary seemed to have had a similar thought. When they reached the bathroom, Will’s hand still gripping his arm, Cary turned back a little and smiled a smile that reached his eyes. “I feel like you’re going to wash my mouth out with soap now.”

Will spun him fully around and into a bruising kiss, which, naturally, turned into a battle for dominance. The kid wanted to be topped, even if only in bed, but he also wanted to fight everywhere. Will won by pulling Cary back by the hair hard enough to make his eyes water. 

“Mmmmm….I won’t wash it out with soap now. That would punish me too, since I’d taste it on you. Now this, on the other hand….” Will’s hand went to his belt. Cary’s eyes went wide. 

It took some time, and resulted in a ripped shirt for Will and a few missing buttons for Cary, but Will finally got Cary bare-assed and bent over, sweaty and writhing underneath him just as he’d imagined earlier. Well, not quite. He definitely had not imagined giving the kid a safeword (“tort”) when he’d thought about this before. But this was actually happening, not just a fantasy, and he had to make sure that, fucked up as this was, it was at least consensual.

Cary flinched, surprisingly, when Will spread that peach of an ass, firm, perfect and not a bruise on it, but relaxed when Will’s lubed finger pushed slowly inside. By the time Will had two fingers in, Cary was pushing back and asking if that was all Will had. 

Will gave him three fingers, hard and fast, his other hand holding Cary’s wrists tight against the bathroom mirror, until he couldn’t take it any longer, rolled a condom on at lightning speed, and slammed into Cary so hard that the kid's head thudded repeatedly against the mirror, his expression reflecting back the essence of pleasure pain. 

While the sex had not been as vengeful as Will had first expected (no real bruises or humiliation. And Cary still had a head), the aftermath wasn't what he thought he had wanted either. He’d imagined calling security the minute they were done and having them escort Cary out of the building, clothing askew and Will’s come dripping out of him.

As it was, they’d been sprawled out next to one another in silence for quite a while only their legs touching, as if they were reluctant to say goodbye.

After a time, Will broke the silence. “Why did you flinch?”

Cary gave him an odd look. “Most people do, when you smack things right in front of them.”

“No,” Will said, strangely hesitant. “When I was getting ready to open you up. Was that the first…”

“No,” Cary smiled. “When you touched your belt, I thought you were going to whip me. I wanted you to, but kind of didn’t want you to at the same time. I was expecting a different kind of touch, that’s all." He paused. "Why didn’t you? It’s not like you don’t think I deserve it.”

“You do. But I couldn’t handle what you did that way. You must know that a spanking and rough sex doesn’t change anything, doesn’t wipe the slate clean. I’m still going after you, all of you, with everything I’ve got.” That sounded much more regretful than I wanted it too, Will thought.

Cary stood and began to dress, and Will made no effort to stop him. “I know. And I know this probably doesn’t change anything either, but it was never personal, never about hurting you. Never really about you at all, or at least not in the way you think.”

But Cary was wrong. His parting words did change things, slowly. And Will was right about at least one thing. Cary was still wincing and squirming a little in his seat the next time they faced one another in court.


End file.
